Horizon Line
by Fluehatraya
Summary: Terry Knight is a pent-up, socially inept American teenager. What will he do when his aggravating sister gives him the game Second Life? Does he become a gallant warrior who seeks to vanquish all evil to his dying breath? Heck no! He is going to be a Player Killer, of course! An attempt at a 1/2 Prince fic where the character doesn't start out with special bonuses.
1. Blackbird, Rude Dark Elf

**Disclaimer: I do not own ½ Prince or anything other intellectual property that is not mine.**

**Author's note at the end.**

**LINE BREAK**

It was yet another late Friday afternoon that found me in my room, reading the same sentence in my book for the dozen or so time. While being in my room was more common than not, typically I was an avid reader who would devour books in no time at all. Boring, I know, but the world beyond my literature holds nothing of interest to me.

Right now though my mind and emotions were in too much turmoil to focus on what I was reading. The reason for this? My older sister has returned home. She had been attending college all the way in Japan for the past four years, give or take, and I had only seen her during the summers during that time. And for that I was really glad, since I didn't want to see her any more than I had to. Now however she was back in the States and had gotten a job nearby at Life Gaming (a job that anyone interested in the video game industry would kill over) and is thus staying with us for an indefinite amount of time until she buys a house close enough to work.

I scowled at my book at the thought of her. She had tormented me for all of my life, no joke, and the time she had spent away from home was a respite I had never known before. I don't want her back in my life, which was far more comfortable without her. Sure, my parents paid more attention to me since their oh-so-perfect daughter had left, which was unfamiliar and made me uneasy to say the least, but at least I could avoid them by holing myself in my room. But no, Pansy would just go out of her way to find and make me miserable.

Suddenly the door to my room opened. Startled, I flailed a bit, flopping down heavily back on my bed as my book was flung a foot into the air and landed on the floor.

"Eugh, have you ever heard of something called a window, Terry?" a scornful voice commented, the nose of its owner crinkling as she took in the dusty smell of my room, eyes squinting in response to the dim lighting that she had to adjust to. Pansy – for that is who the intruder was – strode over to my bedroom window – I winced as she stepped carelessly on the several papers and books scattered across my floor – and rolled the blackout blinds up before pushing the sliding cover open to allow fresh air to enter.

"It's my room, and what are you even doing in here? Shouldn't you be with Mom and Dad?"

Pansy sneered at me.

"And your room sucks. For your information, Mom and Dad are at a friend's house drinking wine. As for why I'm here . . ." Pansy walked over to stand next to my bed, and I flinched away just the slightest as I recalled all those times during our childhood that she could pick on physically me due to her being larger. I was larger than she now, but the memories remain. She snorted at my reaction before dumping a large package unceremoniously in my lap.

"Wha?" I asked ever so intelligently, running a hand over the smooth box. I must have been so concerned with her just being here that I never even noticed she had brought it with her.

"It's Second Life, the most popular game made by Life Gaming. The North American servers are going to open in a few minutes."

I looked up from the box to her, orange-hazel eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Why are you giving me this?"

Pansy snorted, her lips twisting into a cruel smile as a malevolent light entered her paler eyes.

"Isn't it obvious? It's going to be hilarious seeing you get torn apart by monsters and other players. Y'know, just because you only feel the pain at thirty percent of how it would actually feel doesn't make it any more enjoyable. A little twerp like you will probably just end up as some sniveling priest without a team, because really, who would want to be around a socially retarded freak like you?" she jeered.

I felt my blood boil, my hands clenched into fists as I gritted my teeth and glared. I took a deep breath and held it, stomping down the rage I was feeling. There is nothing, absolutely nothing that I can do about it.

"I'm not a retard!" I shouted, although it came out strained as if I were uncertain to argue.

My sister barked a short laugh at my expense.

"You're the one who called yourself that; I just called you socially retarded! There's a difference, you numbskull."

With that she sauntered out of my room, gleefully crumpling some of my drawings underfoot in the process. I sat in silence, simmering for a minute or two longer. Then I moved the box off of my lap, slid off of the bed, and shut the door that she had left open angrily.

I returned to my bed, taking the box back into my hands and starting to read the print on all of its six sides. I may not be a fan of my sister or video games, but I have been excited about Second Life, what with its fantasy-based content and alleged ninety-nine percent realism for weeks, and I have to grudgingly admit that I'm glad my sister got it for me. Still, I'm definitely going to make her eat her words. I'll become the most fearsome player in all of Second Life; no one will dare mess with me!

Prying open the box, I removed a gaming helmet, game cartridge, and manual, tossing aside the packing material to some corner of the room. Before even starting the game I read the manual from front to cover, as any sensible person would do, and committed the information to memory. By the time I finished reading it I took a glance at the digital LED clock that was on the dresser next to my bedside and noticed that the time for the game to start had already passed.

Inserting the game cartridge into the helmet, I then placed it on and plopped onto my bed, allowing the gaming helmet to work its magic and send me to sleep artificially.

**LINE BREAK**

I came to awareness in a black room stretching all around, its only feature a floating chair in which a guy probably around my sister's age sat. His features were hard to make out due to the helmet he had on over his head, but I didn't particularly care since chances were he was just an NPC.

"Welcome to Second Life. Before you may start the game, you must first create the character. You may only make one character, and once it is made you cannot change them." the NPC stated in a cool and official manner. I liked that, as peppy people trying to start up a conversation with you when you are complete and utter strangers is always awkward to say the least.

"Alright, let's get on with it then." I said.

At once a wide variety of races came into existence before me, and I found myself impressed. There was a great selection here. But of course, that was one of the many things lauded about Second Life, that being the variety.

"Races you may choose from are human, elf, dark elf, dwarf, demon, spirit, holyman, and beastman." the NPC informed me, indicating to each race as he stated their respective names.

"Get rid of the human, elf, dwarf, spirit, and holyman." I said at once, not wanting to be something too generic, weird to play, or "pretty". At once those options vanished, leaving me with far less choices, including the sub-races.

I examined the remaining options.

"Get rid of the demon too."

After all, the demon race was composed of either hideous humanoids or beings that just looked too much like the elves. I may not want one of the pretty races like holyman or elf, but I didn't want to look like a bog monster either.

Now all that was left was the dark elf and various beastman sub-races. It was a tough choice, since the dark elf had a cool, edgy and exotic sort of quality to him, while the beastmen looked intimidating and animals are just plain awesome. After some more consideration though I decided that the beastmen were out, leaving me with the dark elf. While beastmen may generally be more fearsome than a dark elf, it would definitely say more about me if I could strike fear into people as a humanoid. Besides, not only do I like how the dark complexion is a far cry from my pasty skin in real life, but I don't want to be mistaken as a furry. G-d only knows that between my sister and some of peers at school I am more than teased enough.

"Are you sure that you wish to be a dark elf?" the NPC asked me.

"Yes."

My race set, I then went through deciding the rest of my features. While dark skin was a prerequisite for a dark elf, there were various shades possible to be one coming in browns, greys, reds, and blacks. It didn't take long to settle on the darkest black, which was so dark it looked like one could fall right through it like a dark cave. Then I chose for my eyes to be an alluring blue-purple the color of tanzanite, and for my hair to be silver to contrast my to-be dark skin strikingly. Unlike my hair, which was short in real life on account of my parents always making me cut it once it reached chin length, I designed my game self so that it was long, coming down to about mid-back. At least, it would have been if not for the fact that it was meticulously plaited into countless tiny braids and then gathered up into a high ponytail. I grinned upon seeing the finished product, which definitely looked cool. Now this was what a fantasy character should look like, and I could hardly believe that I would be this person.

"Excuse me, but we do have an option for your character to be beautified or uglified by up to ten percent. Would you like to utilize this option?" the NPC interjected.

"Ten percent more beautiful, please." I made a face at using the word 'beautiful'; couldn't they have called it 'handsome' at least? My masculine pride was somewhat wounded.

"Now you just need to choose a name and continent – of which there are five, consisting of the four cardinal directions and then a central continent – and then you may enter the game."

I thought about this, looking at my character and trying to think of the perfect name.

"How about . . . Blackbird for a name?" I asked. I was considering Dark Knight, since my last name is Knight, but realized that that sounded so generic and like something a preteen who fancies themselves unique would come up with.

"Yes, that name is available."

Now I just had to choose a continent to start out on. I paused here, thinking about what I read of each one. Central was based off of continental Europe, Eastern off of Asia, and they were the two most popular continents. Then there was Western, which had a pre-colonial Native American vibe to it, Northern, which was Norse-like, and finally Southern, which was apparently based off of the Middle East and Africa. Not many players chose to play on the Southern Continent from what I'd heard, on account of the difficult terrain, dangerous weather conditions, and particularly aggressive monsters.

So of course, I knew which continent I wanted to start out on, and informed the NPC that I chose the Southern Continent as my starting place. I could have sworn that the NPC raised an eyebrow before giving a small smile at my choice. Nah, that was probably my imagination.

"Excellent, enjoy your Second Life."

The NPC's voice faded with the room.

**LINE BREAK**

Still in the empty room, awaiting the next new player to sort out, the GM allowed himself a small smile.

"So that's Pansy's brother?"

**LINE BREAK**

I woke up to the sensation of a stick prodding my side. Despite feeling groggy, I still reached up and grabbed the stick while frowning. Sitting up my attention turned to the urchin NPC at my side, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Sneering at the girl, I stood up and wrenched the stick from her, snapping it over a knee and tossing the two halves to the side.

"_I. Do not. Like. Being. Touched!_" I warned her, my voice on the verge of dropping into a hiss. The girl stared up at me with the onset of tears welling up in her large dark eyes, and I had no doubt that they were genuine; the news of the NPCs in Second Life developing sentience had hit headlines around the world. Frankly enough though, I really couldn't give a damn if she a person in all but flesh.

"Don't you dare cry on my watch. You can repay your poking me by telling me where I am."

"A-Afel Village." she stammered.

I nodded and got to my feet, swinging my in-game limbs around and rotating my head on its neck. It felt just like my real body, even though I was taller and in much better shape in this game. With no use for the raggedy NPC girl I then started walking away, planning while I did so. Quickly becoming lost in my thoughts and making sure I didn't run into anyone, I did not notice the bemused and even indignant looks I was receiving for my treatment of the NPC.

**LINE BREAK**

Afel Village – or Afel-on-the-Pirenes, as the beginner village was known officially – I had realized, as I familiarized myself with the settlement, was a quaint place set on some small hills overlooking a small river known as the Pirenes. There wasn't much, but where it was set was in a savannah with a decent amount of trees and foliage with lazy animals sprawled out in the thick reeds and along the riverbanks.

When I had spotted an inn with actual glass windows (most of the buildings here – which were either composed of sandstone or bricks made of dried mud with straw mixed in – did not have windows, or if they did then they were just oiled parchment set into wooden frames) I had paused to examine myself in their reflection, and found myself to be wearing the same plain robes – dun in color and nondescript – that I had seen worn by most of the other players, who were new to the game like me. There were also some plain pauldrons and thigh guards that really didn't do much for my stats, but were better than no protection I supposed. Once I made enough earnings from monster loot from grinding I could always buy better, or maybe find some treasure or win them by taking on quests. Second Life was a huge world with plenty of opportunities for anyone willing to go out and work, so I'd heard.

I leaned against the building, considering my options. Dark elves were a fairly well-rounded race that typically specialized as magi, warriors, and thieves, although archers weren't that uncommon. Not many people chose to play as dark elves, warriors preferring the better strength and endurance that beastmen and humans typically have over dark elves over the higher agility that dark elves were usually endowed with, while regular elves were just plain more popular, their good-looks being more generic, while their agility was just a slight better and their endurance lesser, making them better archers than dark elves typically.

Really, I wouldn't be that impeded by my race no matter what class I chose, unlike say a beastman, the majority of the sub-races being notoriously slow and often lacking in intelligence and wisdom stats. You would think that, being animal-like, they'd be faster, but I suppose walking on two legs as opposed to four really does make a difference.

So I could basically choose any class and be well off. I ran through my options, immediately dismissing mage, priest, and archer, along with sub-classes of those main classes such as bard from my options. I wanted something that was up close and person to show my sister up, and really, what's the point of playing a game like this if you're going to hide behind other people? Besides, I wasn't planning on making or joining a team, so being a class dependent on others would be a folly.

When it came down to it, my options were pretty much either warrior or thief. Not sure which to choose at the current moment, I decided to put it off later and instead check my stats and equipment.

"System." I stated to nothing, feeling foolish. However, I had read in the manual that this was the way to check the system menu, and the information was proven correct a moment later.

Name: Blackbird | Gender: Male

Level : 1 | Race: Dark Elf | Class: None | Reputation: -5 | Health: 60 | Mana: 20 | Unspent Skill Points: 0 | Strength: 8 | Physique: 7 | Agility: 10 | Intelligence: 5 | Willpower: 6 | Wisdom: 5 | Charisma: 2 | Luck: Unknown | Abilities: None

Huh, I wonder what I did to lower my reputation. Ah well, no point dwelling on it. Overall, my stats are looking pretty decent, save for Charisma. Probably mean I'm not going to be a thief, then.

Disabling the system menu, I checked for my equipment. Did I really just start out with nothing but the clothes on my back? I patted all over myself before unbuttoning the leather pouch hanging from my belt and sticking my hand in, delighted to find that there were a few things inside. I removed from it a somewhat dull knife about the length of my hand, a pair of plain but sturdy gloves, and a cheetah print bandana. Upon closer inspection, I found that the bandana, while as manipulative as any regular bandana, was much harder – as if there was metal inside – and if warped into a shape could retain it. Cool, sort of like Ryoga's from Ranma ½! After a moment of consideration I wrapped the bandana around my forehead before donning the gloves. It was probably too hot for the latter to be sensible, but I figure that any boost to my defense would be appreciated with so little gear and the levels of my stats currently.

Feeling a bit more settled into the game now that I've taken care of some primary business, I was raring to start playing seriously.

"Excuse me, but what are the best monsters around here for a beginner to fight, and where may I find them?" I inquired of a passing player who looked fairly battered, my polite speech kicking in as it always did when initiating conversation with somebody I didn't know well.

"The man-eating slimes to the north are a good bet." he said before moving on. Nodding and with a destination now in mind, I headed off in the aforementioned direction.

**LINE BREAK**

**Author's Note: Right, so this is my first ever fanfic for ½ Prince, and I'm not sure how it turned out. All reviews are welcome, even if they are harsh critique (so long as it's constructive.) This story isn't a priority of mine, but I am finding it fun so while updates will be sporadic don't expect to wait for new chapters for too long. If need be, feel free to review and/or private message me prompting me to hasten my work and I will do my best to meet your demands if it is within my means.**


	2. Blackbird, Slayer of Slimes

**Disclaimer: I do not own ½ Prince or anything other intellectual property that is not mine.**

**Thank you everybody who reviewed and put this story on favorites and alerts, especially dartya, who pointed out a ridiculous mistake I made last chapter. Author's note is at the end.**

**LINE BREAK**

I headed out a short distance north from Afel-on-the-Pirenes, and it did not take me long to find a bunch of man-eating slimes cavorting in the long grasses, and the most telltale sign that they were even there was the way the top of the grass bent in twisting paths without there being any wind. I actually caught sight of one on the fringe of the grass, and if it was not moving I doubt I would have noticed it; although its body was in the shape of a fat teardrop, its coloring and patterning blended in perfectly with the grass.

The slime hadn't noticed me yet, so I took the chance to observe it. Save for its beady black eyes and a crease beneath them that I presumed was the mouth it didn't really look like a living creature at all. Most Second Life monsters are at least somewhat passable as living beings, and my first glimpse of a monster – the man-eating slime – was honestly disappointing. I hope that the other monsters are more interesting.

Then the low-level monster yawned – or at least, that was how I perceived it – and I was taken aback by the contents of its mouth. Rows of yellow-brown saw teeth lined its maw from corner to corner, and I shuddered. I hated to imagine what infections I could possibly contract from those dirty looking implements of attack, and even if it was in a game I most definitely did not want to find out in a personal way. Could players even become afflicted with such conditions? I mean, I know there are status affects, and the game is ninety-nine percent realistic, but that's just nasty.

I sighed, drawing my pitiful knife and taking a glance at what I was wearing. Neither my armament nor lightly armored robes seemed like they'd be much help. Nevertheless, I made a few practice slashes in the air and was pleased that it seemed like it could at least inflict sufficient damage.

My movements and the sunlight glinting off of my weapon had attracted the attention of the man-eating slime, which charged at me in a bouncing motion. Had I not been aware of the monster's teeth, combined with the first two words of its name, I would have been more amused. As it was, I side-stepped the monster's attack and pivoted on the heel of a foot, the other one already raised into the air which then struck as the slime passed me by, catching it in the side and sending it sprawling a few feet away.

**Attack successful, Man-Eating Slime HP -15**

**System notice: Blackbird has learned a new ability – Spin Kick**

The system notice surprised me, and seeing that the slime was still dazed from my attack I skimmed the explanation.

**Spin Kick: Ability Level 1, 10% chance of immobilizing an opponent**

Well, that was a useful ability, but I could already see the man-eating slime righting itself, a side of its smooth face/cheek starting to bruise. Perhaps as my ability grew then it would leave the opponents down longer, which could definitely come in handy.

The slime came at me again, and I dodged and moved to perform another Spin Kick. However, the monster anticipated this (I wonder if even NPC monsters like slimes gained something from the whole sentience thing kicking in), turning around and latching onto my attacking foot with its teeth, sinking them in and stubbornly refusing to let go. Have I mentioned that those teeth look painful? Allow me to reiterate: they hurt like bloody hell!

Note to self: buy better footwear than the lace-up leather sandals that you started out with. Perhaps some steel-toed combat boots would be a wise investment.

**Man-Eating Slime attack successful, Blackbird -2 HP**

I scowled, vowing to turn off the frequent notices as soon as and if possible, preferably immediately after this fight. I could see why they were there, but frankly enough it was distracting.

Having enough of the slime clinging to my foot like a damn parasite, I brought my leg up higher before slamming it down, and repeating the motion repetitively until the slime was an ugly stain. I spat out several curses, not having even heard the notices of the slime losing health rapidly and myself gaining two new abilities; the movement had only brought more pain to my foot, and I when attempting to assess the damage by wiggling my toes found that I couldn't make the movements that I had always been able to make even unconsciously. The tendons must have been bitten right through!

Sighing, I bit down on my lower lip until beads of blood welled up, not allowing myself to whimper even when I tried setting my injured foot down, only for pain to flare up and cause me to retract it back into the air. And _no_, I did _not _cry, thank you very much; it's not crying if the tears don't actually escape.

I shook my head and licked the blood off of my lower lip, savoring the coppery flavor. Taking a few deep breaths I tried to calm down, and had to stifle a chuckle as I realized I had to look ridiculous as I was, standing stock-still with one leg held up in the air. I eased myself awkwardly to the ground, taking care not to jostle my bad foot, and wondered how I should get back to the village. Wait until another player came along and ask for aid?

My lips curled at the thought. As if! I had no desire for anyone to see me in this state, so _weak_ and _defenseless_. Besides, I was more than capable of taking care of myself! I sneered at myself for the idea to have even crossed my mind. Then realizing I could be attacked by another slime I looked around in an attempt to catch sight of another. I didn't see any more monsters, but I did notice a stoppered vial containing a thick-looking red liquid in the remains of the slime I had obliterated, along with a few small bronze coins. I quickly snatched up the loot, depositing the coins into my pouch before examining the potion more closely. The red ones were healing potions, I was pretty sure.

Well, if it wasn't a standard healing potion then it all likelihood it was a typing mana replenishing one, as a beginner monster wouldn't drop any potions more potent I was sure. Shrugging, I pried the cork out of the glass and brought it to my lips, downing it in a few large gulps and making a small face. It tasted like cherry medicine, which meant it had that nasty aftertaste. I rolled my tongue around my mouth a few times and spat onto the dusty ground, trying to get rid of the taste.

My foot had stopped throbbing now, and I looked to it to see that it was completely healed. My toes were even capable of moving at full capacity as before. In fact, the only evidence of the wound was the blood staining my sandal on that foot and a bit of the ground around it. I wondered idly if the healing potion acted for infections also; how nice it would be, to just have to drink something and be cured of all ailments.

Even though the vial was drained of its contents, I nevertheless placed it away into my pouch, the interior of which was far larger than the outside, with the plan to see if I could sell it so that I wouldn't be as near-broke as I currently am.

Feeling rejuvenated, I leapt to my feet and stretched a bit.

"System." I brought up the system menu for the second time that day. I flipped through it, reaching the options menu, and made the adjustment so that I wouldn't receive notices until I opened the system menu again. Then I returned to the main screen and checked how many experience points I received, along with noticing two more abilities.

**Nasnas Stomp: Ability Level 1, has a 25% chance of inflicting critical damage**

**Continuous Attack: Ability Level 1, allows the player to attack in rapid succession**

Is every single action I take going to result in gaining another ability? Doesn't that seem a little, I don't know, silly? Eh, whatever. I shrugged and walked over to the fringe of the long grass, picking up some rocks on my way. Knowing that it'd be foolhardy to attack an enemy of unknown numbers in an area where I wouldn't be able to see them well if at all, I decided to flush them out by chucking the rocks randomly into the grasses before taking several long strides back to give myself space.

Sure enough a couple of slimes came out. One was sporting a small injury, but the other had one of the rocks lodged in one of its eyes, obscuring the organ completely from sight. An ugly looking bit of viscous fluid that actually reminded me of Jell-O, if it were slightly more pus-like, welled up around the eye socket and dripped down its face. This man-eating slime kind of lurched, looking unsteady.

The healthier slime was quicker to get to me and I wasted no time in kicking it, punting it back into the fringe of the grass. Not wanting to wait for it to gather its bearings, I sprinted after it and past the one-eyed slime, noticing at once how much faster I was in-game in comparison to real life. A part of me reveled in the sensation of the ground flying beneath my feet and the air rushing past my face and causing my robes to snap like pennants, as my bunch of braids swung around and slapped up and back down onto my head with every stride I took.

I reached the slime just as it started to get up, and before it could do so I stomped on it once and then lunged down, striking it right through the center of what passed for its back with my knife. Goop spurted out from the wound, the translucent yellow substance splashing onto my face. I wrinkled my nose and placed by foot on the monster, grinding it into the ground for good measure. The action tore at its wound considerably, and sure that it was dead for good I turned to my other foe, which was almost close enough to pose a danger.

However, as it was still slow I could take it on with ease, especially since the other threat was eliminated. I dropped into a crouch and sprung at the slime, slashing it across the face. My knife eventually met its earlier injury, slipping past the embedded stone and deeper into the head. The slime seemed to deflate and became a limp splotch on the ground to my satisfaction.

I then gathered up the loot from my kills, satisfied with my efforts and their rewards. Even though I had been injured with that first man-eating slime, I really felt that I was starting to get a grasp of this. Actually, all of this fighting was pretty invigorating and made me feel good. Having always been the weak guy, the sensation of being powerful was an inexplicable one that left me feeling empowered.

I had fought. I could kill. What was more, this was a game and I wouldn't be thrown into jail.

Heck, I could even kill Pansy in this game.

. . . couldn't I? After all, this game does have ninety-nine percent realism, so that probably means that players can PK each other.

That was definitely a possibility worth checking out.

For now though I had to get stronger; no longer would I stand being weak, not when I can kill and even make something out of it. For example, now I find myself in the possession of a strange sort of axe that was identified when I checked out its details as a nzappa zap, a bit more money, another healing potion, and a wooden stave that could make the magic of the wearer slightly more potent. Although I could use it as a physical weapon, I decided to stick to my knife and axe and sell the beginning magical weapon for more money.

Having a better weapon and a better weapon than a shoddy knife and my own two feet, I decided to stick around a bit longer and level up so that I could take on more dangerous animals and venture out into the wide world from this backwater village.

**LINE BREAK**

An undetermined amount of time that was at least over an hour later, I trudged into Afel Village. I was a bit tired from exerting myself so much, but I felt good nonetheless. I never had the chance to do run around and kick things in real life, and leveling up had made so much difference, especially after I allotted the skill points I had earned. Pretty much all of them went into my Strength, Physique, and Agility stats, seeing as I planned to be a melee fighter.

I was level ten now, which meant I could actually go into a class. First though I wanted to grab a bite to eat and invest in some better armor, since while I had a new weapon that would see me through for a few more levels before it became obsolete, I was lacking sorely in defense. Were I to engage in fighting more deadly monsters than man-eating slimes, I have no doubt that I would soon come to sport some bad wounds, and it isn't like healing potions grow on trees.

Walking down the streets, I snickered at seeing some of the people who just began getting up from where they were lying down in the middle of the dirt path that was a sorry excuse for a street, looking confused. My attention was soon diverted as I caught scent of a heavenly smell, tracing it to its origin: a street vendor with speared meat roasting over a contained fire. I could see the oils dripping off and hear the crackle of the grease.

"How much for a serving?" I asked the NPC who ran the tiny business.

"Five bronze coins."

I passed the money over, and the man pulled a slightly curved knife out from where it was sheathed on the back of his belt. He worked deftly, stripping meat off of the animal with practiced slices and sticking them onto a skewer along with some roasted vegetables. I walked away, happily eating my meal. It wasn't often that I got to eat actual cooked food like this, and it had a very authentic taste; Second Life really has succeeded in the realism from my observations so far. The food itself, while on the greasy side with some fat that made it difficult to chew every bite or so, was good, albeit with a seasoning that I couldn't place my finger on.

As I enjoyed my meal, walking to the village armory where I could buy combat equipment, I couldn't help but realize that being involved in a game like this was so much different than reading fantasy books. It was just so realistic, and in a way felt more real than the real world. There I always sought to escape reality, but here I was participating in it even though it was merely virtual.

I frowned at my unhappy thoughts, shaking my head to clear them out. I really shouldn't bother myself, dwelling on such subjects. By now I had reached the storefront of the armory, sliding the last bit of meat into my mouth and chewing before swallowing. I threw the skewer my meal had been on to the ground and wiped my hands of the grease and salt onto my robes, figuring that they couldn't be any worse off with the stains, dirt, and small tears that had accumulated from fighting. Checking over one last time to ensure my hands weren't unforgivably filthy I then entered the store, where I was greeted by the NPC owner.

"Welcome, how may I help you?"

I looked around the shelves that lined the wall and past the man, taking in the collection of armor and weapons. Plate armor displayed proudly on stands, helmets over mannequin heads, and rows of polearms, blades, and more perched on hooks on the walls.

"I'm planning to become a warrior and was wondering what armor I should buy that would be beneficial in achieving this objective." I mentioned. The NPC raised an eyebrow at me, and I wondered why. Was it something I said? Did he doubt my ability to become a warrior?

"You sound more suited to books than killing." he commented, much to my ire.

"I don't care; I want to be a warrior." I practically growled.

"Easy there, you don't want to fight me." the storeowner warned, and I could see his point; the man was built like a tank, with bulky muscles and scars that spoke of past conflicts, not to mention that he owned every deadly thing in the store.

"Well, as I was saying, I could use some help." I sighed, letting the matter slide. He shrugged.

"I guess it's on your head, not mine. Anyway, you have to kill ten wolves to become a warrior. The best kind of armor I could suggest to you is something cervical, to protect the neck. This is because the wolves prefer to go for the neck, especially with their jaws. This kind of armor would be in your budget as a beginner. I would suggest some better pauldrons, but the ones you have should be sufficient in the meantime, so long as you don't plan to go challenging anything stronger than your typical wolf. Although it is probably out of your price range, something to protect your torso would be especially good to have." he rattled off, impressing me. The man obviously knew what he was doing, or at the very least seemed to.

"Can you show me some of the neck protection?" I inquired.

"Certainly." he said, and started bustling around the room, looking over a few things before picking a small selection that I could choose from.

"This is a mail coif," he placed the piece of armor on the counter in front of me "which will protect you to some degree, although you will undoubtedly want to make improvements in the future."

He then set the other item he had brought next to the coif.

"And this is an aventail. It is similar to the mail coif, only it is to be worn attached to a helmet, most likely a bascinet. It will provide more protection, but if you're neither in the price range nor have the desire to wear a helmet, then it is not for you."

Even though I could see the practicality of wearing a helmet I couldn't help but grimace, not liking the idea of my range of sight being limited.

"May I try on the coif?"

The shopkeeper nodded and I picked the mail coif up, slipping it on to my head. I tested it out, moving my head this way and that to get a feel for it. It wasn't really to my liking though, the metal feeling heavy on my head and the sound that the individual links made as they moved against one another distracting.

"Do you have anything else to offer?"

The mail coif was removed from my head, the owner setting it back onto the mannequin head where it had come from.

"It's really basic, won't do anything but protect the neck, really . . . "

"Basic is fine."

He shrugged and walked off, returning a moment later with wide band of metal and handing it to me. I took it in my hands and gave it a look over. It was actually mostly metal, with metal plating that looked to be iron on the outside. There was a hinge in it, and opposite to that was there the band opened, revealing a simple clipping mechanism like you might find in some bracelets with an almost imperceptible lever sticking up to allow it to be removed.

I clipped it on around my neck, flicking it hard to test. It felt tough, but I could hardly feel the movement through the leather, and it was thin enough that I could move my head up and down without problem, and the material it was made of thankfully did not aggravate my skin except in the slightest as I moved, which was to be expected.

"I like it, how much?"

He listed off a price and I paid it, feeling that it was a good investment that did not eat into what money I had too much.

"Is there any armor to protect my torso that you could recommend me?"

"Well, I do have a lamellar cuirass made of cuir bouilli that you might be able to afford. Do you have this much?" he asked, indicating to the price written below the displayed armor that he pointed out.

"Err, no. I can pay about half of that, though, and maybe you would be willing to accept a staff and my knife also for it also?" I pulled the items that were mentioned out to show him, sighing slightly at the thought of giving the knife away. I was hoping to keep it for more variation.

The storeowner examined my offers, his lips thinning at the knife.

"It's not very good, but I could make something better out of it, with a little work. Tell you what, after you become a warrior and receive a proper weapon you come back here and give me this knife?"

I perked up at this. Had the shopkeeper picked up my desire not to part with it? Perhaps he was more observant than I gave him credit for. My lips tugged into a small smile at the unexpected kindness.

"Sure, thanks."

"No problem, now get out of here and get to killing some wolves; they come into town and cause too much harm anyway." he scowled, removing the lamellar cuirass and passing it over to me, making sure I was putting it on correctly also.

"Thanks again!" I left the armory after that, feeling better and more confident. Watch out wolves, here comes Blackbird!

**LINE BREAK**

**Author's Note: Sorry that this story is slow so far, but when I read this archive and see chapters where a character defeats two bosses in a thousand words or something like that it really gets on my nerves. Don't worry, the action will definitely pick up sooner or later, hopefully sooner with the planning I've been doing. Oh, and sorry that this chapter was also so late to get out; I meant to update days ago, but between bothersome exams and nags, I really could not bring myself to write any fanfiction. Which is quite sad, since this chapter was almost finished a day after the first one. Any comments are appreciated, especially critique; especially concerning weapons and armor if you're well-versed when it comes to them, as I myself am not as knowledgable as I'd like to be about them.**


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